


Glimmer

by Tolyys



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crushes, DenNor, Drummer Matthias, Fluff, M/M, Musical Instruments, Sassy Emil, Violinist Lukas, Visually Impaired Character, but he's not completely blind, gradual vision loss, retinitis pigmentosa, sweet dennor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26594623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tolyys/pseuds/Tolyys
Summary: Lukas has always found his freedom through playing his violin. Even as he starts to lose his vision, and is forced to adapt accordingly, it’s been his one consistent escape in a world that's gradually dimming. When he moves out of his home and into an apartment, eager for some time to himself, he isn’t at all prepared for his life to brighten again. But, there’s Matthias.
Relationships: Denmark/Norway (Hetalia)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt given to me by RandomW07 <3

“Mom texted me again. I’m supposed to ask if you’re extra sure you’ll be okay in here on your own.”

Lukas rolls his eyes, dumping his armful of bags on the floor beside the couch. “I _am_ a self-sufficient adult.”

His brother smirks, and Lukas hears the couch squeak in protest as he sits on the arm, crossing his legs. “Try again, that’s not a valid Mom-answer.”

“I’m still fairly certain this wouldn’t be an issue in the first place if you’d just get her a cat like I suggested.”

“What, so I can listen to her fuss over the cat instead of you?”

“Exactly. It’ll be like I never left.”

“You’re not making your case for this cat like you think you are.”

“Come on, Em, you’ll miss me.”

“Will not. Shut up.”

Lukas reaches up and swats playfully at his arm. “You’ll miss me.”

“Shut _up,”_ Emil protests, though Lukas can hear the grin in his voice as he resumes arranging his bags on the floor in his favorite I’ll-get-to-you-later formation. “Seriously, though, what d’you want me to tell Mom?”

“I don’t know, that I’m a grown man and I know how to cook my own ramen?”

“I can’t tell her you’re planning on eating ramen, Lukas, she’ll lose her mind.”

Lukas sits back on his haunches and sighs good-naturedly, blowing a pesky lock of hair from his face. “True. I don’t want her driving up here and trying to cook for me.”

“She wouldn’t even make it to the kitchen. She’d die of shock right there on the welcome mat, when she sees you’ve got your stuff on the floor.”

Rolling his eyes again, Lukas lets his arms rest on his knees, and glances around the apartment. Of course, he’s seen it already, but now that he’s officially here, and all of his stuff is here too, it’s starting to feel less like the one-bedroom box he’s renting and more like home. And it’s not just because his toothbrush is in the bathroom now. The curtains have all been opened, allowing in the natural light of late summer. The once-bare windowsills are now adorned with fairy lights, and some succulents that he and Emil rescued from an Aldi earlier that morning. The cold false-wood floor now sports an area rug.

It’s cozy now. Warm and a bit tightly-packed. Just the way he likes it.

“Is there anything else we need to grab from the car?” he asks, his gaze coming to rest on Emil again. His brother is still looking at his phone, probably trying to compose another reassuring message to their mother, but after another moment he gives up, clicking it off and stuffing it in his pocket as he gets to his feet.

“Yeah, just a couple more bags. Bedsheets and stuff. Oh, and the violin. I figured you’d get pissy if I tried to carry that with my arms full.”

“You know me too well. Stop that.” Lukas pulls himself up, and carefully sidesteps around his bags. “Let’s go get them now, before it starts getting dark.”

Emil leads the way through the door and into the hall, and it only takes them a minute or so to reach the doors to the parking lot. Lukas had purposefully chosen a room on the ground level and close to the entrance of the complex. The hallways are poorly lit, not carpeted, and unlike his new home setup, they are deafeningly empty. The echo is enough to set him on edge, even after only a moment of being out in it.

“You okay?”

Emil’s voice startles him as they step onto the pavement, and when Lukas turns toward it, he realizes Emil has been looking at him.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“You were making a face.”

“Ah. Just thinking, I guess.”

Emil accepts this, though it’s probably because they reach the car before he has time to ask anything else. The car pings as he unlocks it. “I’ll get the rest of the stuff from the trunk.”

“Can you carry all of it?”

“Yeah, it’s not that much. Besides, you need your strength so you can focus on carrying your precious baby.”

“You’re a horrible child,” Lukas informs him as he pulls open the backseat door and reaches inside. His fingers meet the cool, smooth wood of the violin case, and something in his chest feels just a little lighter.

He finds the handle and takes the violin from the backseat just as Emil is closing the trunk, a suitcase in each hand. He raises an eyebrow at Lukas.

“Do you two need to get a room?”

“Asshole.”

“You love me.”

“Sometimes I just tolerate you.”

They begin the walk back to the building, side by side, maneuvering between the rest of the cars. It’s the same path they used to get to their car, so Lukas isn’t prepared for someone’s door to be hanging open. By the time he notices, he’s noticing with his arm.

With a sharp gasp, he nearly drops his violin.

He hears Emil halt beside him. “Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Lukas replies, rubbing his shoulder. “Let’s just get back inside.”

Lukas doesn’t let his guard down again until they’re back in his room and he’s sure he knows exactly where everything is. He sets his violin gingerly on the coffee table as Emil kicks the door closed.

“Where d'you want these?” Emil asks, hefting the suitcases a little higher.

“The bedroom is fine. I’ll unpack them later.” He tilts his head slightly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help with those? They look heavy.”

“I’ve got ‘em.”

As Emil shuffles off toward the bedroom, Lukas lowers himself to the couch, and lets his hands roam over the violin case again. His fingernails click pleasantly against the polished wood, and the metal clasps that hold it closed. He nearly pops them open, but he forces himself to refrain. It can wait until Emil goes home.

Letting out a quick breath, he pushes himself back to his feet and makes his way to the bedroom. He leans on the doorframe, watching with a smirk as Emil stacks the suitcases on his bare mattress.

“Hey, punk, you can just put them on the floor.”

Emil mirrors his smirk as he turns to face him. “Feeling extra rebellious, are you?”

“If my act of being extra rebellious is leaving things on the floor, I’ve led a sad life.”

“I’m sure you’ll work your way up to nose piercings and tattoo sleeves soon.”

Lukas raises his eyebrows. “Mom would evaporate from shock.”

“Definitely.” Emil pulls his phone out, glancing at the time. “Speaking of which, I gotta get going soon. She made me promise I’d be home to help with dinner.”

“Is it that late already?”

“It’s ten ‘til four.”

Humming in mild surprise, Lukas shifts off of the doorframe, making room for his brother to exit the bedroom. “Don’t let me keep you, then.”

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Emil heads back out into the living room. “I’m only five minutes away, so just call if you need me to drive you anywhere.”

“Like to go get my rebellious nose piercings and tattoo sleeves?”

“Exactly.”

Lukas gives him a small, sincere smile. “Yeah. I will. Thanks, Em. And thanks for all the help today.”

“No big deal,” Emil shrugs. “I’m just glad you were finally able to get your own space.”

The brothers exchange one of their short, one-armed hugs that would definitely seem awkward to any bystander, but is enough warmth for just the two of them. Emil smiles, waves, and a moment later Lukas is alone in his apartment for the first time.

He kicks off his converse without bothering to untie them, and leaves them to the left of the door. Socks sinking into the area rug, he wastes no time in returning to the couch and taking hold of the clasps on the violin case again.

Two satisfying clicks, a whiff of wood and rosin dust, and he’s holding his violin under his chin, his slender fingers sliding along the neck and into position. He brings his bow to rest against the strings. It bounces gently with the impact, creating that soft, echoing ping, that first hint of a note. He allows his eyes to drift closed, and his breath to ease past his lips, and the trembling silence to settle in the room. And then he begins to play.

He’s tentative at first, his bow skimming the strings like a dragonfly, but it doesn’t take long for his confidence to build, and soon his soul is pouring over the delicate wood, crashing with the strength and sureness of a wave.

Lukas’s world is never as bright as it is when he’s playing. His eyes are still closed, but he can feel the warmth of color and light against his chest, behind his eyes, crackling against his fingertips with every movement. His lips part, and he inhales it, pulling it into his lungs and holding it there, letting it swirl and dance, and when he releases it he can feel it sparkle on his tongue. He’s not quite sure what melody he’s playing- he never is- and it doesn’t matter. He’s here, and he has never felt so alive.

A sudden muffled, rhythmic thudding sends his bow screeching to a halt, and his eyes snap open, the colors evaporating into the fading evening light. Lukas lowers his violin again, breathing heavily, glancing around the room. Had an upstairs neighbor been bothered by the noise?

But the thudding continues, even after he’s stopped playing, and after a moment he realizes that it’s actually drifting through his window from outside.

Setting his violin down again, Lukas wanders over to his window and pushes it open, wide enough to lean out. It’s starting to get dark, and he’s unable to pinpoint a source with his eyes, but the open window allows a clarity to the sound.

Drums.

Lukas wants to step away, he wants to shut the window and get on with his evening- he’s never really been interested in listening to drums, after all- but he can’t. He’s drawn to remain where he is, his lips parting again, and his eyes drifting closed for a moment, perhaps against his will.

For once, the colors are still there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahahaha, well, this was going to be a long oneshot just to get my feet wet, but I got inspired, and I've got absolutely fuck-all willpower, so I'm expanding it into a couple chapters ^^  
> It probably won't be more than three chapters, because god knows I'll burn out and hit a brick wall if I try to write something huge, lol (I say this as I plan another huge fic, but that's my problem for later)
> 
> Hopefully it was clear, but just in case it wasn't: Lukas has retinitis pigmentosa, and he's losing his vision. At the point this fic is happening, he can still see, but he's got tunnel vision, so his peripheral is essentially gone, and he has a hard time seeing at all at night or in dimly lit rooms. I'm gonna try my hardest to represent this properly!
> 
> I'm a little nervous because this is my first time writing fanfic in years, so I really hope you enjoyed!
> 
> The art is mine! <3


	2. Chapter 2

Lukas spends more time decorating his balcony than he anticipated. 

If he’s honest, he hadn’t been expecting to use it at all. He’s never really liked just sitting out in the open. It always feels like someone’s eyes are on him.

But it’s August. There’s only so much opening a window will do for air circulation, especially during the afternoon, and Lukas is tired of the whirring of his desk fan. It’s disproportionately loud, and it keeps clicking and catching as it oscillates. It’s driving him mad. 

The balcony isn’t an impressive space by any means. In fact, he’s not completely sure it can be called a balcony in the first place; he’s on the ground floor, and it’s really just a rectangle of concrete with bars around it. The sliding door to reach it is stiff and squeaky. All things considered, it probably isn’t worth his effort just for some fresh air. 

Yet here he is, unrolling the spare rug- the one that his mother had insisted he would need- over the floor.

Once that’s done, he steps back and pulls a hand through his sweaty bangs. Besides the rug, he’s brought out a little table and a potted plant to sit on it, along with a pair of folding chairs. He certainly doesn’t plan to invite any company over, but the second chair makes the space feel fuller and puts him at ease. 

Even so, he might not have put forth the effort to drag out any chairs at all, if it hadn’t been for the drummer. 

He’s heard the drummer two more times since moving in. 

Each time has been after dark, so he’s still not sure where the sound is coming from, but he figures it must be in the apartment complex, probably somewhere across from him. And he can’t help but be drawn to his window every time he hears it. There’s something almost magical, something fantastical, about the way the drum seems to echo his heartbeat. 

It’s nearing seven o’clock by the time he’s satisfied with the balcony- he’s rearranged it twice and brought out two more houseplants, including the large one that hadn’t felt right sitting in the corner of his bedroom, but now the space finally feels finished. 

He’s considering taking a seat in one of the chairs to try it out when he hears a sharp knock at his door. 

He hesitates at the balcony threshold, debating whether he really wants to interact with someone who is more than likely a complete stranger. He’s not expecting anyone, after all, and Emil has a key to let himself in. 

After a few moments’ deliberation, he decides he’d rather not be rude, and makes his way back through the living room to the door. 

Opening the door reveals a young man, about his age and a few inches shorter, with glasses and dirty blond hair that looks like he frequently runs his fingers through it. He’s smiling awkwardly. 

“Ah, hello. I’ve just moved in down the hall and I was wondering if you know where I’m supposed to go to register my car?” 

Lukas shifts his feet on the welcome mat, keeping a hand on the door. “I’m sorry, no. I’ve only just moved in myself.” 

“Oh. Sorry to bother you.” The man tries for another smile. “It’s nice to meet you anyway, though, neighbor. I’m Eduard.” 

“Lukas.” 

An uncomfortable silence falls between them as Eduard remains standing at his door, smiling expectantly up at him. 

It’s only after a good five seconds that Lukas thinks to look down, and he realizes that Eduard has been holding out his hand for a handshake. 

“I’m sorry,” Lukas mutters, quickly taking his hand and shaking it. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” 

Eduard says something else, probably an awkward goodbye, but Lukas really doesn’t hear it. He closes his door as soon as the other man turns to leave, and leans against it with a sigh. Against the wood, his shirt begins to slip, and he allows it to pull him into a slouch. He pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s got to remember to start looking down. 

The sun has started to set now, the room darkening. Lukas hasn’t even had dinner yet, but he strongly considers calling it a night. 

He’s lifted from his thoughts by the sound of a drum. 

Lips parting gently, he pushes himself back to his feet and wanders a few steps toward the still-open balcony doors. The sound is rising now, bounding over the concrete, against the false-wood floor. It spins about his head, dragging the breeze behind it like a puppy with a toy, dancing in Lukas’s hair. 

Lukas isn’t sure what compels him. It’s as if his body is propelled by the air itself, his hands finding his violin case on their own. His fingers popping the clasps, gripping the bow, lifting that delicate neck. His feet sending him over the threshold again, stopping him at the edge of the bars where the beats can grasp his heart with a lover’s hand. His lungs pushing out a long drag of that enchanting sound. 

He lifts his violin to his chin. 

Each beat from the drums strikes the air with sparks, and Lukas’s bow strikes his strings in time, and suddenly they’re painting a mural together. A fiery, pulsing red leaps into his deep, swirling blue, and they collide, spiral, wild and intense, fierce like wolves but with the blinding ethereal power of a snowstorm. They catch each other as lightning bolts, crackling and bright and alive, charging the sky. They sweep upwards as a roar on the wind, exploding into the ionosphere, raining stars. 

The scream of the fire alarm sends him slamming back to the floor. 

It’s so loud that he can hear it across the way. Startled, he stumbles back into his living room, feeling for the coffee table and setting his violin carefully back in the case. 

He must have been playing for a while. It’s now gotten so dark that he can hardly see at all, and he can feel his heart pounding through his sinuses at the sound of doors up and down the hall and people hurrying past his room. 

He does not want to face the hallway or parking lot right now. He’s still not confident about his way around, and he’s never tried to navigate it after dark. But if so many others are leaving in such a hurry, it’s clearly not a drill, and he can’t justify pretending not to be home. 

Finding his keys and then the door, he yanks on his converse, takes a deep breath, and steps into the hall. 

It feels like he’s fallen into a hot river. He’s instantly swept up in a mass of bodies, shoved toward the exit with blunt shoulders and sweaty arms, the breath knocked out of him. His ears tingle at the echo of the panicked murmur off the empty hallway walls. What little lighting there is does absolutely nothing for him. If it wasn’t for the motion of the group he would be lost already. 

When he feels the evening air on his face, he freezes. He has made it over the threshold, and he knows there is a set of steps somewhere in front of him. Three steps, not high, but concrete, and probably not fun to trip on. Tentatively, he shuffles forward, wanting to feel an edge with his foot, or the railing,  _ anything- _

“Come on, let’s go!” someone snaps from behind him, and his breath catches. He reaches forward with his hand, desperately, and blessedly finds the metal rail that ascends up the middle of the steps. He hurries down them, toward the sound of the crowd, and halts where he can hear people shifting around him, at what he hopes is a safe distance between the building and any area where there might be moving cars. 

It dawns on him that he’s left his violin inside a building that might be burning. 

Thankfully, he’s only left worrying for about five minutes. Some sort of apartment official emerges to announce that the fire had started in someone’s kitchen and was quickly controlled, meaning it’s now safe for everyone to go back inside. 

The bodies around Lukas begin to move off, and suddenly the steady river is gone. Suddenly, it’s a seven-lane highway, sweeping him in seven directions. He’s spinning, stumbling, and then the crowd is directionless and beginning to fade. 

Lukas freezes. When he was inside, it was easy enough to follow the people from his hall, but now their voices are coming from all directions, drifting around him, and he can’t find the one direction he came from.

He knows he must be near the correct door, but the complex has multiple entrances, and he’s not even sure he’s facing the right direction anymore. All around him, the people who remain are milling about, their shoes scraping the pavement, their limbs bumping him further off course. 

As he shuffles backward, trying to get his bearings, his heel touches the edge of something, and it feels like the curb onto the parking lot. 

Okay. That’s a direction, at least. Closing his eyes, he takes a calming breath, and tries to focus. 

“You okay?” 

The voice startles him. It’s coming from his left. He hesitates, not sure it’s meant for him.

“Hey, uh, sir?” The voice has gotten closer. “You okay?” 

Lukas opens his eyes. “Are you talking to me?” 

“Yeah. Is something wrong?” 

“I guess I’m a bit lost,” Lukas admits, keeping his voice low. “I just need to get back to my room.” 

“Oh, I can help!” Lukas can hear the friendly, almost customer-service smile in the man’s voice. “Where do you live?” 

Before he can answer, the man laughs at his own words. “Jeez, that must sound super creepy. But you know what I mean.” 

Lukas can only manage a slight nod. This guy has gotten uncomfortably close already; their shoulders are nearly touching. “I’m in 112.” 

“That’s easy!” The guy shifts. He’s pointing, Lukas realizes. “It’s just through that entrance.” 

Lukas bites the inside of his cheek, and draws in another breath in an effort to steady his voice. He doesn’t want to inconvenience this stranger, but it’s probably better to ask him while he seems willing to help than to keep guessing by himself. “Could you guide me? I can’t see.” 

“Yeah, sure thing!” The man’s answer is so immediate that Lukas is startled again, and he’s even more so when he offers up his arm without being asked. “I’m Matthias, by the way. I live all the way over on the other side of the courtyard. But don’t worry, I know my way around!” 

Lukas can only nod again as he links his arm with Matthias’s, gripping gently just above the elbow. “Well, thanks.” 

“No big deal! You ready?” 

Another nod, and they’re making their way across the sidewalk. As they walk, Lukas can’t help but wonder whether Matthias does this often. He’s pacing himself perfectly, not dragging or pulling at all.

“Three steps here,” Matthias warns. “So, I haven’t seen you around before. Did you just move in?” 

“Yes. On Monday.” Lukas doesn’t spend a lot of time around extroverts, so he’s not sure what to make of this conversation, and part of him hopes that will be the end of it, but Matthias seems prepared with more. 

“Cool! I’ve been here a couple years now. It’s always fun to get to meet the new people. We’re at the door now, it’s a little step over the threshold.” 

Once they’re inside, Lukas lets himself breathe a little easier. He doesn’t answer Matthias, but the taller man doesn’t seem to mind, and thankfully allows a comfortable silence as they head down the hall. 

He only speaks up again after about a minute of walking, having halted. “We’re in front of your door.” 

Releasing Matthias’s arm, Lukas pulls out his key and unlocks the door. He exhales slowly as he feels his shoes crunch over the welcome mat, before turning to face Matthias. 

“Thank you. I really appreciate your help.”    
  


“Hey, it’s no problem, really! I guess I’ll see you around, uh… I don’t think I got your name.” 

“Lukas.” 

“I’ll see you around, Lukas!” The smile in Matthias’s voice sounds so contagious. Maybe it’s just the relief of being home, but Lukas can feel the corners of his lips twitching.

“Yeah. Until then.” 

He’s still smiling when he closes the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the apartment complex is meant to be in a U shape, which is why Lukas can hear the drums across from his balcony, and why the entrances are so confusing for him with a crowd; just wanted to make sure there's no confusion! 
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed the chapter! feeling a little nervous about it, so hopefully everything reads right <3 also, big thanks to lumassen for the guidance on this one!
> 
> (also also, houseplant cameo. if you know, you know. lmao love you guys)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so remember when I lied and said this was only gonna be three chapters?
> 
> (sorry for all the dialogue hnghgghgh)

“You  _ what?”  _

“Honest to god, Emil, I don’t even know who he is.” 

Emil gives him a pointed look and an eye roll over his shoulder, before narrowly avoiding a display with the shopping cart when he remembers to watch where he’s going. Lukas can’t help but wonder why the middle of an Aldi is his brother’s choice for this conversation. 

“He told you his name, though, right?” 

Lukas crosses his arms. “As if I would take someone to my door without at least knowing their name.” 

“I figured you’d run a fancy police-style background check on him, too, before he even got to see your hallway,” Emil snorts, leaning on the handle of the cart. 

“You make me sound paranoid.” 

“You  _ are.” _

“Brat. Bastard child.”

“The one and only.”

Lukas grabs a can of soup from the shelf. “Remind me to disown you later.” 

A package of instant noodles strikes him in the back of the shoulder. 

“Never mind, I think I have time to disown you now,” he decides, placing the can in the cart.

“I was aiming for your head.” 

“Good, I’ve taught you well.” 

The wheels of the cart tremble and squeak as Emil begins forward again. “What else do you need?” 

“Throw those noodles in there and I think I’ll be covered for the week. You sound like Mom.” 

“She  _ is _ the one who told me to always ask you if you’re sure .” 

Lukas scoffs good-naturedly. “So this whole shopping trip was an inside job. You’re spying for Mom.” 

“Against my will.” Emil steers the cart toward the checkout lines. “You’re avoiding my question, by the way. That guy who found you. Why’d you take him all the way to your door?” 

“He took  _ me, _ Em. I couldn’t  _ see. _ Did I leave that detail out?” 

“That’s not what I asked you.” Emil pauses, touching Lukas’s arm as he does so. “See any short lines?” 

They choose the one that, while not necessarily short, puts them nearest to the door. Emil nudges Lukas’s shoulder as they pull up to the back. “You’re still avoiding my question.” 

“What do you want me to say, punk? I told him which room was mine, and he just took me there. He knew how to guide me. I wasn’t going to stop him.” 

“I guess that’s fair.”    
  
“You  _ guess _ ? Thanks for your assessment.”

“It’s the least I can do before you disown me.” 

The line shuffles forward. Emil groans. “Your ice cream is gonna melt, at this rate.” 

It’s Lukas’s turn to shrug. “Milkshakes are fine.” 

“I might disown you first.” 

Mercifully, they escape the line while the ice cream is still cold, and they’re on the way back to the apartment complex as soon as the groceries are loaded in the trunk. 

“How long can you stay over?” Lukas asks as his brother guidese the car around a corner. “You’re welcome to have dinner with me.”

“I’ve got an essay to finish tonight. Besides, I can hear the timer running out for Mom to call in a panic. Otherwise, I’d love to stay.” 

Lukas laughs. “Some other time, then.”

“Definitely. Maybe I’ll even bring Mom.” 

“Much as I love Mom, I don’t think she’d love instant noodles for dinner. Or the idea of us being near them.” 

“Well, she’s missing out.” 

“I’ll tell her you said that,” Lukas threatens. 

“Fine, then I’ll tell her you led a strange man to your door.” 

“You’ve been my brother for how long and you still don’t get the concept of how  _ leading _ works?”

“Fine. There was a strange man and he saw your door.”

Lukas rolls his eyes again, but against his will, his expression fades a bit. “I suppose so.” 

Emil pulls up at a red light and stops the car. From the sound of his shifting, Lukas assumes he has turned to look at him. “Something wrong?” 

“No. I don’t know.” He sighs, not looking up. “I had no idea where I was, Em. And he was just there.” 

“I know.” Emil’s tone has dropped a little. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease so much.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Lukas assures, because it’s not Emil’s fault. He isn’t sure why his mind is still stuck on that night at all. He isn’t even sure why he told Emil. The situation is over and done with, after all; it’s not something he’d needed to mention to anyone in the first place. But something about it is gnawing on him, regardless. 

The car chimes in with the gentle lurch of a foot being taken off the brake. Lukas lifts his head, watching the collection of quiet businesses drift by as they resume down the road. He is close enough to the window for his breath to fog it, and he allows it to gently cloud his view of the store fronts and sidewalk. 

“I’m pretty sure I’ve got time to stick around and help you unload the groceries, if you want,” Emil offers, breaking the silence. 

“Only if you’re sure you’ll have time for your essay.” 

“Lu, you and I both know that the hour before midnight will be when that essay is both started and finished.” The smirk is audible in his voice, and it’s contagious. 

“I’m impressed by your procrastination.”    
  


“I learned from the best.” 

Lukas allows himself to lapse back into silence, and Emil makes quick work of the rest of the drive. As the apartment complex comes into sight, Lukas hears his brother’s seat shift again. 

“You sure you’re okay?”    
  


“I’d be better if you’d watch the road.” 

Another smirk. “Got it.” 

They pull into Emil’s usual parking spot, as close to the entrance as they can be without the car being officially registered at the complex. Emil pops the trunk and climbs out of the driver’s seat. By the time Lukas joins him, he’s already filling his arms with bags. “You can get the doors, since you’ve got the key. I’ll let you go first.” 

Nodding, Lukas lifts the remaining bags from the trunk, and leads his brother inside. As they walk, he glances at their surroundings, and silently counts his steps from the curb to the threshold of the entrance, just as he had done on his way out to meet Emil earlier that morning. 

Upon reaching his door, he slides the key into the lock and shoves it open with his shoulder. He stands aside, giving Emil room to shuffle past and carry the groceries out to the kitchen. On his way, he steps over the collection of bags still stacked beside the couch.

“Still haven’t finished putting away all your bags, huh?” 

“I kind of like it. I feel rugged and wild.” 

“Okay, rugged and wild, come help me put away all these butter cookies you bought.” 

Lukas joins him in the kitchen. “I do not appreciate your judgemental tone, asshole child who also eats butter cookies.” 

They manage to get nearly everything put away within ten minutes, before Emil leans back against the counter with a sigh. “I should probably get going.” 

“Okay.” Lukas stuffs the last pack of instant noodles into the cupboard and closes it. “I’ll walk you to the car, if you want.” 

“Sure.” 

The pair heads back out into the hallway, and then out the door, discussing plans for Emil’s next visit. Lukas promises to have him over for dinner on a weekend, when he doesn’t have any schoolwork to worry about.

Stepping off the curb, Lukas catches sight of his brother’s car, and begins toward it. 

_ “Lukas!” _

Emil’s panicked voice sends him to a sudden halt. Seconds later, a car flies past him, inches away, fast enough to push the hair from his eyes and yank the breath from his chest. 

Even after the crackling of tires on the asphalt fades, Lukas remains frozen, eyes wide and pulse slamming in his throat. He hadn’t been focused, and he hadn’t even looked, and he had almost stepped right in front of a car. If Emil hadn’t been there...

“Lukas, you okay?” Emil is suddenly by his shoulder. “I thought you saw it coming.” 

It takes Lukas several seconds to find his voice, and when he does, it’s frail at best. “I wasn’t focused.” 

“Come on, let’s get off the road, yeah?” Emil points to his car. “I’m right up here.” 

Lukas manages a nod, and follows him into the parking lot. He rubs his face, and pulls in a few deep breaths, trying to get himself together. Upon reaching the car, Emil gives him one of his one-armed hugs. 

“You good, Lu?” 

“Yeah,” Lukas breathes, because he’s pretty sure it’s true. His adrenaline is certainly still pumping at full gallop, but he’s nearly caught his breath, and his pulse is beginning to drift back down. “Sorry. I’m not usually so distracted when I cross the road.” 

“I know. It’s still a new place. Don’t beat yourself up. Just... also don’t do it again.” 

“Right.” His voice comes out shakier than he’s prepared for. He hopes Emil won’t notice. “I’ll do my best.” 

“Good enough.” Emil climbs into the driver’s seat and pulls the door shut before rolling down his window. “See you Saturday, then?” 

Lukas doesn’t return to his room until Emil’s car has disappeared behind the bushes that line the parking lot. Even when he feels his welcome mat under his shoes, however, restless energy rips up and down his limbs. He can tell his hands are shaking. Shoving out another breath, he picks his violin up off the coffee table, tucks it under his chin, and flicks his fingers over the strings, filling the room with floating, disorganized pings that bump the floor and ceiling like half-deflated balloons.

He desperately loves living on his own. But he can’t seem to keep his bearings in this place, and no matter what he tries, there’s always something to send his focus spinning without a direction. 

He leans against the wall, still plucking at the strings. Silently, he acknowledges that eventually, he’ll need to reach a point where he feels secure leaving his room by himself. Otherwise, living here is entirely pointless. 

_ Ping. Ping.  _

The violin nips at his silence like a hungry kitten. Slowly, Lukas closes his eyes, continuing to tickle the strings, and letting their airy wooden voices tickle back up his jaw, until he jolts to a halt at the sound of a slamming door from out in the hallway.

The hallway. His eyes open again, and he lets the violin drift from under his chin. 

The hallway has been too much for him from the beginning. It’s big, and empty, and it echoes. Frankly, it scares him. But he knows he won’t ever really feel comfortable until he learns to navigate it. 

Shifting back off the wall, he turns to look at his door. It’s still daylight; in fact, it won’t start getting dark for several more hours. The lighting fixtures may do nothing for him, but the windows at the corners might. And there’s nothing pressing he needs to get done before the end of the day. This might be the opportunity he needs. 

Slowly, he takes his violin off his shoulder and sets it back into the open case, not taking his eyes off the door. He eases the case closed, the wooden halves thunking together, but he doesn’t bother to flip the clasps back down. As he straightens, he pats his pocket, making sure he still has his keys, as well as his phone. It would be embarrassing to have to call Emil to rescue him from the hallway, but if it comes to that, he wants to make sure he has the means. 

His fist closes around the door handle. He takes two deep breaths, letting them fill his lungs until they hurt, and as the second rushes out, he pulls the door open and steps over the threshold. 

The door falls into its frame behind him, with a resounding and final click that shudders down the hallway walls and vanishes like smoke. Lukas stands close enough for his sleeve to remain on the wall, unmoving, lips parted as his ear canals fill with the floodwaters of crushing, empty silence. 

Here it is. For about ten seconds, he waits, almost hoping someone else will emerge from their room, or at least open their door, so he can anchor himself to something. Complete silence is almost worse than being lost. 

Blessedly, from somewhere out of sight, perhaps around the corner, someone else’s door closes. It’s a heavier slam that echoes horribly, but it’s the final push he needs to propel himself from the wall and start moving. 

The first few steps pass with an unexpected ease. His heart doesn’t begin drumming again until he’s reached the first corner, and he realizes how far he’s walked into the complex. He takes pause, glancing about at his surroundings, wanting to get his bearings. He’s at the window now, the stairs to the second floor are directly to his left, and the bend into the next stretch of hallway is to his right. It’s just as dim as the one he’s leaving, this time without the help of the light from the entrance behind it, but he can just see the next window down at the end. Eyes locked on it, he pushes forward before he can change his mind. 

Unlike the one he’s just come out of, this hallway feels like an eternity. It’s true that he’s starting from its beginning, and not halfway like he had been before, but some other force is elongating this stretch. It drags at his feet, and prods at his pulse, and beckons the tremble back to his hands. He’s meant to be looking around to get his bearings, but he can’t move his eyes from the window as he shuffles forward. It’s as if his muscles have died, and the light from the window is pushing on him as it simultaneously floats farther away with each desperate step forward. The walls are dark and endless, no longer anchored to the floor, but drifting around in space, through an inky void, and threatening to leave him there if his eyes leave the light. Without looking, he reaches out toward one, only for his hand to fall through empty air, and his breath catches. His eyes clench closed as he sucks in several more breaths, feeling nauseous and starved for air. 

Suddenly, his toe taps something firm, and his eyes fly open. He’s standing at the opposite wall, next to the window, daylight dusting the bare floor, and all at once he’s anchored again. He takes a tight hold on the windowsill, grateful for its rigidity, and tries to catch his breath. 

“Lukas?” 

He startles, head snapping up. Thanks to the window, the light is much better here, and he’s greeted by the sight of a man, quite a bit taller than him but likely around his age. He has wild ginger hair, wide shoulders, a triangle-shaped jaw, and curious misty-blue eyes. When Lukas makes eye contact, he beams. 

“It  _ is _ you!” 

“Uh…” Lukas is still struggling to keep his breath steady, so finding words is immensely more taxing, but he manages, “Do I know you?” 

“Yeah, sorry! It’s Matthias, from the other night!” 

_ Oh. _ So this is Matthias. 

Lukas swallows, and tries to stand up straight. “Right. I remember.” 

Matthias’s head tips to the side like an inquisitive puppy’s, his grin fading slightly. “You okay? You look kinda pale.” 

“Fine,” Lukas breathes. “I’m fine.” 

“You sure?” Matthias takes a step closer. 

Eyes drifting back to the window, Lukas musters a nod. 

“Do you need to sit down? My room’s just down the hall.” Matthias gestures vaguely, toward the middle of the last stretch of hallway. 

“I don’t want to impose.” 

“That’s okay!” His smile is back. “I was already making tea.” 

Lukas hesitates. He certainly does not feel up to visiting some stranger’s apartment, but Matthias has been so nice to him, it’d feel rude to turn down the invitation. Besides, the lingering weakness in his limbs begs for a seat sooner than he can force himself back to his own apartment. 

His eyes flick back to Matthias’s face. “Okay.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the long delay!! college kicks my ass in October-November, otherwise it would've been done much sooner. I really hope you enjoyed reading it; of the three so far I've been the most unsure about this one but it's 5:30 in the morning and I can't nitpick it anymore  
> thank you so much to lietpolhun and lumassen for all their help with critiques so I could get this chapter out, you guys are the best, love you sm <3
> 
> (yeah as I implied this is definitely going to be a longer fic than I anticipated, that's just the way it's panning out LOL)


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